


Irish Cream

by Snorri_Stargazer



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, He acts like a top but lets be honest he bottoms, I'm getting beside the point, Jacob is Big Gay, M/M, Oral Sex, Syndicate, and Big Sub, and that might be why I really like redheads, bottom!Jacob, fun-fact: I'm part-Irish, i'll stop now, or should I say: beside the porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21801175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snorri_Stargazer/pseuds/Snorri_Stargazer
Summary: After catching one of his most promiscuous Rooks staring at him during a tournament, Jacob decides to take the man home and treat him to a night of drinking and...getting to know each other.
Relationships: Jacob Frye/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 62





	Irish Cream

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to the Sonic: Colors soundtrack

As Topping shouted in delight, Jacob knocked one fighter out after another, bouncing bodies into the makeshift barrier or dropping them to the floor like flies over the Thames. The Assassin was euphoric with adrenaline, his eyes wild and bestial. Every person who stepped into the ring was quickly identified according to level of threat, and defeated accordingly. A hefty bloke took a swing at him while a lanky tattooed man rushed at him; he ducked under the former's fist and pushed it into the latter's face, before twisting the entire arm around until the brute blacked out from the pain.

So, of course, he was excited.

He blamed the aforementioned adrenaline for the tent in his trousers, but he didn't usually give it much thought. It was just another element of the fight. Having a few Rooks in the audience made no difference, they knew better than to question their leader's... preferences.

That is, except for one. Cameron watched Jacob with something between terror, reverence, and pure awe. His body was in peak condition, and his reflexes proved that the same could be said of his mind. Every strategy came to him in the moment, and he adapted with startling speed. He leaned over the barrier to get a closer look.

At that moment, Jacob was actually smashing the face of an opponent into the boards just a few feet away. As he slicked his hair out of his eyes, the Assassin turned back toward the center of the ring- or, at least, that was his intention. He locked eyes with Cameron, and in that instant, a fist careened into his face.

Of course, the response was immediate; the attacker was flipped over the ad hoc fence and forgotten, and Jacob went back to pummeling wannabe champions. Cameron had a harder time moving on, and so did his body.

The tournament lasted longer than usual; it was a special event, hence why Jacob had brought along a contingent of Rooks, in case the Templars tried to pull something.by he end of the bouts, however, no such ambush had gone down, and Jacob was reveling in his victory, because he had, of course, remained undefeated for one hour, as specified by the winning conditions of the tournament.

To a chorus of assorted cheers and jeers, Jacob hopped out of the ring and into his pack of gangsters. They patted him on the back, punched him in the shoulder, while the vanguard of the group kept pushing through the gathered crowd.

Outside of the makeshift arena was a brief maze of alleys, which quickly dumped them onto the bank of the Thames. Jacob dismissed most of the group, and they congratulated him one last time. They all left, still riding the high of their leader's victory. They all left, that is, except for Cameron.

This was because Jacob had discreetly tucked an arm around his waist, pulling him in close. Jacob was still carrying his coat and hat over his other arm, and the new Rook could feel the heat emanating off of the Assassin's bare skin.

"Fancy distracting me from the fray, did you?" He asked quietly. "Almost got me with that one. Almost."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frye, I didn't mean to-"

""Mr. Frye"? Oh, I like you. "Sir" will do nicely, though."

Cameron went red. "Mister- I mean, sir, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to distract you."

Jacob laughed. "You Irishmen take everything seriously, eh?"

Relief washed over the Rook as he realized that Jacob had been messing with him. "Up until we've got a pint or two in us, sir."

The Assassin grinned. "Why don't you come down for drinks, then? My gift to such a good little Rook."

"Sure, what pub?" Cameron asked.

"I was thinking something more private." Jacob explained

"Oh?" Cameron blushed.

"Meet me at the station later, round ten o'clock, my train'll be there." With a wink, Jacob disappeared, zipping away with his fancy climbing gadget.

"Damnit." Cameron said. "I've got a date."

***

At ten o'three, Cameron stood on the platform of the station, his shocking red hair done as nicely as he could manage on his limited budget and his clothes made up to resemble decency. He wondered at what sort of game Jacob was playing by inviting him here. Perhaps it was a prank, or a new hazing ritual. They would kidnap him and pretend to be Templars, scream at him until he told them everything he knew, only to kick him out of the gang once they realized what a coward he was.

His fears dissipated somewhat when Jacob appeared beside him. "There you are, worried you didn't come for a minute."

The Assassin smiled sincerely; Cameron felt his heart melt a little. "Of course, sir. I'm happy to accompany you tonight." As an afterthought, he asked, "Who'll be joining us tonight, if you don't min me asking?"

"Just us, Cameron." Was the answer.

The Rook was surprised. "How d'you know my name?"

"I know the names of all the cute Rooks." He flashed another warm smile as the train pulled in. Before Cameron had time to process what the Assassin had just said, he was being yanked off the platform and into the car near the front of the train.

"My sister's out for the night, she'll probably turn up at noon tomorrow, knowing the kinds of things she gets into." Jacob said sarcastically. "So, it really is just us."

"Is this..." Cameron started. "Some kind of test?"

"No." Jacob denied. His hand came up as if he wanted to Cameron's in his own. "It's only-"

The door popped open suddenly, and a short woman poked her head in. "Mr. Frye, I thought I'd just check in real quick and- oh, busy are we?"

"No, Agnes, just..." Jacob's hand fell back to his side. "Just entertaining a guest."

"Ah, well, I'll leave you to it. Business can wait till morning, it's nothing pressing." Agnes Porter left them alone, and shut the door snugly behind her. Wordlessly, Jacob set about drawing all the curtains.

"You'll find some bottles under the bed there, help yourself."

Cameron followed the Assassin's instructions, and found a bottle of Irish cream under the bed. "Did you prepare for this or something?" He gestured to the drink.

"No, I just like the stuff." Jacob grunted. "I've got plenty, you're welcome to it."

Cameron found a corkscrew (also conveniently under the bed) and popped the cork out. He searched for a cup. "Got any glasses?" He asked.

Confidently, the Assassin walked over, too the bottle out of the Rook's hands, and took a straight swig.

"Alright, tough guy." Cameron looked up at Jacob and accepted the bottle back from him. "My turn."

In an hour's time, both were as drunk as pigs that had wandered into an alehouse. They had finished the cream and had moved to a bottle of port, until Jacob's instincts stopped him from drinking any more about halfway down the container.

"That's-" He burped loudly. "That's enough." He re-corked the port and put it back under the bed. "I feel as high as a brewer's mouse."

"Ha, lightweight." Cameron mocked him, even though he was quite obviously turned on his head. "My granny could out-drink you."

Jacob laughed way too hard at such a generic joke. "You know, Cameron?" He turned to face the Rook. "You're a damn good drinking buddy." He tried to put an arm around the Irishman's neck, and after three tries he got it.

"And you wanna know something, sir?" Cameron asked. "You're not half-bad yourself." He put a hand on Jacob's chest.

"I heard from a friend that you're pretty prolific with some of the other Rooks." Jacob stated.

"That's not the word I would use." Cameron sensually spidered his hand down Jacob's torso. "More like: virile." 

"Show me just how virile you can be, Cameron." Jacob kissed the Rook, his movements drunken but passionate. 

Cameron responded in kind, grabbing Jacob's waist and deepening their contact. The latter had already shed his coat, and the former was keen on doing the same with the rest of the clothes on both of their bodies. The Assassin seemed to agree, as he was hungrily pulling at the Irishman's jacket.

He was obliged when the Rook quickly took off his coat and shirt, almost popping buttons off of the fabric in his haste. Jacob practically tore his loose shirt off, exposing his toned, hairy chest and distinctive tattoo. He was surprised to see just how muscled his night's partner was; his pale chest bulged with strength.

Cameron flexed his biceps. "The mill will do that to you." He said. "It's a benefit, I guess."

Jacob pushed Cameron down on the bed, getting between his legs and immediately worshipping the Rook's pecs.

"For someone who wanted to be called sir you're awfully submissive."

"Shut up." Jacob growled against his skin before sucking on one of his nipples. Cameron moaned loudly and pulled the Assassin's hair. "Fuck!"

Jacob left a trail of bitemarks as he crawled down Cameron's body, growing ever-closer to his crotch. Soon, he was pulling off the Irishman's trousers and underwear, letting a sizable cock spring out.

"Holy hell." He breathed. "Look at that monster."

Jacob stroked it with one hand whilehe teased the tip with his tongue. Cameron made a high-pitched, needy noise. "Suck me, damnit." He commanded.

"Who gives the orders here?"

Cameron grimaced.

"Oh, I'm just messing with you, relax." Contrary to his order to relax, the Assassin plunged down on Cameron's cock without warning, the wet walls of his mouth shocking the former with pleasure.

"Oh, God." He moaned. "Good Virgin forgive me." Without hesitation, he grabbed Jacob's hair and starting pulling him back and forth. The Assassin let him, groaning around the huge dick in his mouth. The added vibrations doubled the sensation, and before long, he had to pull out to avoid cumming too soon.

"Get on your knees." He ordered, wit far more confidence than he usually had.

Similarly, with uncharacteristic submissiveness, Jacob obeyed.

"Do you have some kind of... slick?" Cameron asked.

Jacob fished in his pocket and pulled out a vial, which he passed to Cameron.

"Take your pants off." The Rook started greasing his fingers with the oil, applying it generously. He didn't want to hurt his boss, after all.

With Jacob's pants thoroughly banished onto the floor, Cameron started prepping the Assassin with his fingers. The first slid in easily, gliding through the usually-tight ring of muscle and coating the inside with lube. The gang leader was obviously used to this feeling, and was relaxing in order to make things easier. He was even arching his back, making the way more accessible.

Impatiently, Cameron added two fingers. This time, there was a stretch, and Jacob moaned quietly. He moved quickly, eager to move on to fucking his brains out. Satisfied that he'd done enough, Cameron pulled his fingers out and lined his cock up with Jacob's now-loosened hole.

"Going in." He warned.

"Make me scream."

The Rook dived in headfirst, no pun intended, and bottomed out after just a few secons of pushing. Jacob groaned and rocked back, showing how eager he was. With two hands on the Assassin's waist, he started fucking his ass, building rhythm and pleasure. Every thrust scraped Jacob's walls, bringing near-religious ecstasy to both men.

"God, Cameron." The Assassin wailed. "Harder!"

Cameron leaned forward until his chest pressed into Jacob's back, and placed one foot up near his chest. With this new position, he had newfound leverage and reach.

He pummeled Jacob's insides, unyielding in his quest to make the man quiver like a bitch in heat. He grabbed the Assassin's wildly-swinging dick and jerked it roughly, feeling every twitch that pulsed through the hot appendage.

"I'm gonna blow!" Jacob screamed. "Fuck it, cum in me, Cameron! Cum in me like I'm a fucking whore!" 

The Rook thrusted harder, driving his cock in deeper and deeper until finally, he came. He pressed all the way in as rivers of hot seed poured out of him. Meanwhile, Jacob oly got tighter as he jazzed into the sheets.

"Evie's gonna kill me tomorrow." He said quietly. 

Cameron rolled his eyes. "Did you bring anything to clean up with?"

"There should also be a towel beneath the bed."

"Jesus Christ." Cameron pulled out a large square of thick cloth. "What else is down there, your country's dignity?"

"Very fun- agh!" Jacob yelped as Cameron quickly pulled out.

"Sorry." Cameron apologized as he started cleaning Jacob off.

In a few minutes, they were both relatively clean. Without thinking, Cameron laid down next to the Assassin and pulled his bare body close, nuzzling into his back. He didn't complain, and soon both of them had drifted off to sleep.


End file.
